The Riding Master by Alexandrea Weis

with a bit more substance. Remembering the bottle of amaretto she kept in the cabinet below the sink, she put the carton of juice down on the counter and went to retrieve the liquor.
    With a tall iced tea glass of orange juice and amaretto, and her cell phone in the back pocket of her blue jeans, she made her way to her bedroom door. Just as she was putting the glass down on her dark pine dresser, she heard her jazzy ringtone.
    “Hey, Trent.”
    “Hello, Rayne.” He sounded worn out and his voice lacked the smoothness she had grown addicted to.
    “You okay? You sound tired.” She took her drink and had a seat on her brass bed.
    “I spent the day in meetings with a few of the staff around here. I guess I’m talked out.”
    “Then why don’t we make this a short call and you can get some rest?” Rayne sipped from her glass.  
    “No,” he insisted in a firm tone. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
    Her heart beat a little faster at his disclosure. “You have?”
    “Now why do you sound surprised?” He sighed heavily into the phone speaker. “If you don’t know how I feel about you by now….”
    She took another bolstering gulp from her drink. “I think I can guess.”
    “I promise after this weekend, you won’t have to guess anymore,” he asserted in his sexy, husky voice.
    His determined tone made Rayne tremble with anticipation. She pictured his hands roaming over her body as his words repeated in her mind. Instantly, Lindsey’s advice from earlier that day popped into her head.
    “But what exactly do you plan on doing to me this weekend? I mean, to show me how you feel?” She hoped she sounded flirty enough for him to get the hint.
    He was very quiet on the other end of the line, making Rayne wonder if she had gone too far.
    “Where are you?” His voice was darker and edged with insistence.  
    “Sitting on my bed. Why?”
    Another moment of silence from him tore at her nerves, and then he whispered, “What are you wearing?”
    Unhinged by the lust in his voice, Rayne took a swig from her drink. “I’m in my riding jeans,” she answered.
    “Are you going to put on your sweats?”
    She put her drink down on the dark pine nightstand by her bed. “I was.”
    “I have an idea.”
    Rayne’s hand gripped the phone. The captivating change in his voice was alluring as hell. He was not the friendly Trent she had spent the past few nights talking to; he was different.
    “I’m listening.” She focused on keeping calm.
    “I want you to…undress for me.”
    When she heard the sensual throatiness of his voice, she began to panic. What Lindsey had described sounded fun at the time, but with Trent…she was not sure she could go through with it.
    “Rayne? Do you want me to go on?”
    Spurred on by the sound of his voice, she murmured, “Yes, Trent. I want you to go on.”
    “Unzip your jeans and slide them down your thighs.” 
    Rayne placed the phone by her jeans so he could listen as she slowly lowered the metal zipper down the track. Then, she scooted back on the bed, put the phone to the side, and inched the jeans down around her thighs and all the way to her ankles.
    “I’m on the bed and my jeans are off.” She kept her voice soft and breathless, just like Lindsey had told her.
    “Tell me you want me to go on, Rayne.”
    His voice was killing her. She took a breath, and then turned to the phone on the bed next to her. “Go on, Trent. Tell me what you want me to do.”
    “Take your hand and run it lightly up and down your stomach, and then across your breasts. Tease your skin with your touch.”
    She closed her eyes and tried to relax as her hands scraped across the outside of her T-shirt.
    “Imagine it’s me doing this to you,” he suggested over the speaker.
    “I wish….”
    “What do you wish, Rayne? Tell me.”
    “I…I wish it was you.” She slapped her hand over her mouth, completely embarrassed that she had even mentioned such a thing.
    “Soon, Rayne,